


Snoggletog by Firelight

by apollonious



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Bathtub Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Snoggletog (How to Train Your Dragon), Snoggletog Smut, saturday is dragon day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:29:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21892192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollonious/pseuds/apollonious
Summary: Just before their first Snoggletog as a married couple, Astrid gives Hiccup a gift he will never forget.
Relationships: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Astrid Hofferson
Comments: 15
Kudos: 141





	Snoggletog by Firelight

By the time they’re married, it’s less than two weeks to Snoggletog. It’s taken this long to finish building the Chief’s house, which Hiccup had put off till last as a matter of course. He’d been living with his mother, and Astrid with her parents, while they were building.

Even with all the buildings and houses up, there’s still plenty of work to be done to complete the new village—work that Hiccup had promised Astrid and the Berkians would be finished by Snoggletog. Which is in three days. 

But that’s not why he keeps the other men working for hours past nightfall. No, the reason for that is that he’s had to be very careful the last week, ever since the wedding, to avoid the perception of just wanting to go home and enjoy his wife, as the older men would put it.

_His wife._

Thinking it sends a thrill through him. 

The fact is, most of the men of New Berk are older than he is. He’s proven himself in service to the satisfaction of the vast majority of them, but there are still a few who are eager to see fault in their young Chief. Calling off work early would give them an opening, and while most of the men he’s working with would only give him a smirk or a gentle ribbing, he knows of a handful who would mutter behind his back about it. 

So he’s never the first to go home, or the first to suggest they stop work for the day. 

Tonight, he’s sitting astride the crossbeam of what will be one of their main winches for raising and lowering supplies, fiddling with the pulleys by torchlight that isn’t quite bright enough, when Gobber’s voice cuts into his concentration.

“I think that’s all we’re going to be able to get done tonight, Chief,” he calls from below.

Hiccup glances down. Several of the men who were working with him have left; the others are milling about, not able to do anything, but not wanting to leave until he says so.

“All right,” Hiccup says. “I’ll see all of you tomorrow. Good work, everyone.” He clambers across the beam and climbs hand over hand down the rungs set into the side of the winch for just that purpose.

“Well, you’re a pretty sight,” Gobber says as Hiccup reaches the ground. “Astrid’ll be pleased.” Hiccup looks down at himself and grimaces. His clothes and skin are half-plastered with mud, some of which has dried and is starting to flake off.

“I’d better get home and change,” Hiccup says. “Hopefully my lovely bride won’t be too upset with me.”

Gobber goes to clap a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder but thinks better of it. “Let’s hope.” He goes off in the direction of his house. 

Hiccup walks through the darkened, snowy village and up the steps of his house. Their house. As he pulls open the front door, he’s met by a wave of warm, steamy air that rolls over him.

He shuts and latches the door, and turns to see Astrid standing by the hearth. There’s a roaring fire going. Next to her is a tub that looks like it was once half of a gigantic mead barrel. It comes up past her waist, and inside it Hiccup can see water, softly shimmering beneath the layer of steam that is gently rising off it.

Astrid’s hair is loose, hanging around her shoulders. She’s wearing a loose, robelike white dress that is not so unlike the one she married him in—and only that, he sees, as the flame jumps behind her, silhouetting her through the thin fabric.

“Welcome home,” she says. 

“Thanks,” Hiccup says. “What—what’s this?”

“Our family tub,” Astrid says. “I’ve been working on it for the past few weeks.”

He walks up to it, admiring her handiwork. “You did a nice job reinforcing the waterproofing,” he says. 

“Thanks,” she replies, cocking a smile. “Now get in.”

Hiccup takes half a step back. It’s not that he’s shy, exactly—not with her, not after the last week. “What—”

“Take off your clothes and get in,” she says, reaching for the buckles on the front of his jacket. Peeling it off him, she asks, “What were you even doing? Rolling around in the mud and snow?”

“Only when things were going poorly,” Hiccup says, pulling his tunic off. “We got the last of the big winches up.”

“That’s good,” Astrid says. She’s knelt before him to pull off his boot, and before he knows it she’s undone the front of his pants and pulled them down too.

He steps out of them, naked now. “What’s going on?” he asks. “I don’t need you to bathe me.”

“I know you don’t,” Astrid says, her eyes dancing. “I was planning on joining you.”

His response to that is immediate and involuntary, and she smiles as she looks at him. He sits on the edge of the tub and bends to take off his prosthetic, but her hands are there first, deftly working the buckles and clasps as he’s shown her how to these past few nights. 

Hiccup slips into the bath, turning to face Astrid just in time to watch as she pulls the robe off over her head. He loves her body so much, as he’s discovered since the wedding, and as she climbs in with him, he stares unabashedly: at her hands as they grasp the edge of the tub; at the soft peaks of her nipples, bright pink against the paleness of her breasts; her long, powerfully sinewy legs and the patch of pale gold hair between them; and a flash of pink where he has spent so much time in the last week, with his hands and mouth and the part of him that is growing harder by the second.

But she doesn’t come to him, not yet. Instead, as they both stand there, several feet of water between them, her lips quirk in another smile. She reaches for a bar of soap that’s been sitting on the edge of the tub. “Sit down,” she says. “There should be a bench behind you.”

Cautiously, Hiccup sinks down, until his backside runs into a curving wooden bench that circles most of the tub. It’s deep enough that, with his back against the side of the tub, the edge of the bench is only a few inches shy of brushing the backs of his knees. Astrid sits down beside him, using the soap to work up a lather in her hands.

“Dunk your head,” she orders, and he obeys. When he comes up, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead, she is kneeling next to him. She puts down the soap and reaches for his head. He submits to her attentions, bowing his head before her as her fingers slip into his hair. As her hands work, rubbing the soap into his hair as her nails scratch gently against his scalp, a whisper-soft groan of pleasure slips between his teeth, and his eyes slide shut.

“You have mud in your hair,” Astrid says. “How did you get mud in your hair?”

His lips curl in a rueful smile. “Sorry.”

She only sighs and keeps working.

“I still feel so young,” he says.

“What do you mean?” she asks, and her fingers pause. 

“With the other men. I think they respected me more when we were at war. I was something of an expert at fighting with dragons, but now? With building?” he shrugs. “I just feel so inexperienced. And it’s clear they think the same.”

Astrid’s fingers begin moving again. “It’s a lot harder to second-guess a man when he’s riding a Night Fury,” she says, and he has to smile. “But Hiccup, you have to remember you’ve always been a builder. Even with Toothless’ tail and your leg. And long before that. The biggest difference is that now you’re building with other people. You’ll learn, and so will they.”

She starts moving her fingers in small circles along the sides of his head, working back from his temples to the base of his skull. Hiccup can feel little tremors of pleasure sinking through him like pebbles rolling down a hill. It’s not even sexual, not really, but it just feels so good.

“Rinse,” Astrid says after what feels like a small eternity, and he does so. “Now do me,” she says as he comes up out of the water. 

Hiccup sputters slightly. “What?”

Astrid chuckles. “Wash my hair for me.” She sinks below the surface of the water for a moment; when she comes up, her hair is flattened over her shoulders and breasts. She sits, turning her back to him, and he takes up the soap. He tries to imitate what she did, scrubbing gently at her scalp and gently brushing his fingers through the lengths of her hair, pulling it all back so it floats on the water behind her. He doesn’t feel like his fingers have quite the grace hers did, but if her low hum of pleasure is any indication, she seems to be enjoying it.

“You never said,” he says as he washes her hair. “What’s this about?”

“They say it’s good luck to take your first bath with your husband the first Snoggletog after you get married,” she says.

“Who says this?”

“My mother. My aunts. My uncle Finn.” He hears the smile in her voice.

“Is that why you said if I didn’t get the house done before Snoggletog, we’d have to wait until next winter to get married?”

She nods. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to wait until Snoggletog.”

“You’d wait to get married, but not to take a bath together?”

Astrid only shrugs, not offering any other explanation. 

As his fingers brush her neck, he sees her shiver. “Rinse,” he says. When she comes back up, he guides the wet hair over her shoulder and begins to slowly run his fingers across her shoulders and back. She draws in a long, shaky breath, ducking her chin to her chest and rising slightly higher out of the water. When she lets her breath out, there is a quality to the sound of the sigh that Hiccup has grown to know quite well these last few days. 

Astrid turns to him, and in a smooth motion, she kneels astride him on the bench, her arms locking around his neck. She kisses him, slowly at first and then fiercely, sliding her tongue into his mouth, and he responds with equal fervor. He drags the tips of his fingers up her back, digging his nails in just slightly, before bringing his hands around to cup her breasts. They slide down to her hips as she starts to grind against him, and as his cock gets hard again he feels the tip brush the inside of her thigh.

He slips one hand between her legs. There’s a wetness there that’s not just from the water, and as he slides two fingers inside her, she moans and begins to slowly move on his hand. He uses his thumb on her clit, timing each circular motion to the rhythm of her thrusts as she rides his fingers. She tilts her head back, and the light of the fire flickering against her wet skin is one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen. 

“Oh gods,” she moans, but he can feel it coming too. She’s trembling, and as she gets closer and closer she grasps his shoulders in a grip that would be painful if it didn’t feel so good. 

Finally, with a sharp gasp, she reaches her climax, and wave after wave of muscles squeeze down on his fingers. Her breath comes raggedly, and he watches her face, utterly spellbound.

When she opens her eyes, it is to look directly into his. “I want you,” she says, and that is all he needs; he pulls his hand from her and wraps it around the shaft of his cock, guiding it inside her as she slowly sinks onto him.

He almost comes then, from the warm, soft pressure of her around him, and the hotness of the water, and the wood of the tub against his back, and the intensity in her eyes as she holds his gaze. She moves her hands from his shoulders to the edge of the tub and begins to ride him in earnest, moaning between her teeth as he fills her. 

With her hands on either side of his head, her breasts bouncing in front of his face, and her eyes still looking into his, Hiccup feels like he is seeing her more clearly than he ever has before, and he knows just how lucky he is to have her. Of course, he always knows this, but just now he is intensely aware of his luck. He begins to buck his hips into her, matching her pace and using his hands on her waist to help keep them in sync. 

He is rewarded by a sharp, hushed cry that seems to tear itself from her throat. “Hiccup—” she gasps.

“I know,” he says, panting. “Me too. I’m going to—Astrid—Astrid—”

Hiccup sees stars from how intense the climax is as they come together, breathing hard and clinging to each other in the hot water. When he catches his breath, Astrid’s face is pressed against his shoulder, her arms around his neck. He rubs one hand along her back, and she makes a sound of deep contentment, nuzzling into his neck as she brings her hands to rest on his chest. 

He holds her like that for a while, until, slowly, they both begin to shiver as the water loses its warmth. 

Astrid stands and bends over the edge of the tub to grab one of the towels she’d stacked on a nearby chair earlier. As she does, Hiccup sees a trail of white leaking down the inside of one of her thighs, and realizes that it’s his cum. 

At once, his cock springs back to hardness, and he stands, grasping her waist and hopping into place behind her. 

She turns and grins at him. “Want to take this upstairs?”

He nods emphatically until she captures his mouth in a kiss. 

Later, after they have somehow gotten Hiccup’s prosthetic back on (he doesn’t remember much of that, as he was more concerned with what Astrid’s mouth was doing at that moment) and made it upstairs, and made love again in the big bed that Hiccup finished only days before the wedding, they find themselves lying, sweating and spent, wrapped in each other’s arms. 

“I like the bathtub,” Hiccup says after a stretch of silence. 

Astrid snuggles deeper into his shoulder. “I’m glad. I hoped you would.”

“It’s practical and fun,” he says. “An excellent Snoggletog gift.”

She giggles. “So what are you getting me?”

“This house, that I built with my own two hands?”

“Lots of people built the house.”

“All right, then. This bed?”

She considers. “I mean, wasn’t it more of a wedding present?”

He sighs, but he’s smiling. “Okay, then. What do you want for Snoggletog?”

She pushes herself up to look at him. “You,” she says simply.

He grins up at her. “You have me.”

“I know.” With a smile, Astrid lowers herself to kiss him. “Specifically, I want a day at home with you. Tomorrow.”

“Day after?” Hiccup asks. “I think if we really push ourselves, we can get everything done tomorrow.”

Astrid grins. “Deal.” She kisses him again. “Happy Snoggletog, Hiccup.”

“Happy Snoggletog, Astrid.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Snoggletog, everyone! Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you'd like to leave a comment, I would greatly appreciate it.


End file.
